The Hidden Ones
by B00KW0RM101
Summary: When Luna Lovegood published her legendary books on the life of Harry Potter under a muggle name, there were some people who remained hidden, unwritten. Now the full story is being written, the hidden ones coming forward into the light.
1. Prologue

**AN: This idea has been bouncing around in my head for a while now. I finally started to write it out. Enjoy**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I own nothing except my OCs, no matter how much I ask the magic pixie fairies to make it otherwise.**

Prologue - January 2007

_The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well._

Luna Lovegood hit save on the final draft of her tale of the life of Harry Potter and then attached it to the email to her publisher. Hitting send, she shut the lid of her laptop and swung her chair round. Smiling serenely, she got up, collected her cup from the desk and swept downstairs.

Her husband glanced up from reading the paper as she entered the bright, airy kitchen. "Oh hey hun. C.C. called, wants to meet you for coffee at the Leaky in half an hour. I'll look after the kids"

"I think that would be lovely. I'll look for some things to drive the Wrackspurts away, they're really getting out of hand. I'd best be off then"

Twenty minutes later, end Luna was sitting at a vacant table in the newly renovated Leaky Cauldron with a mug filled with butter beer sitting in front of her when the door swung open and admitted a tall black-haired woman bundled up in muggle winter clothing amidst a flurry of snow, who stumbled a little before catching herself and moving over to the bar, where she chatted with the barmaid and then headed towards Luna's table, plonking herself down on the chair while unwinding her scarf and slipping out of her coat. "Wow. Hannah's really done a number on the pub, hasn't she? It looks fantastic"

"Hello C.C."

"Hey Luna, how are you?"

"Oh, you know, the Wrackspurts are at it again, and they're really getting out of hand. I'm going to see if that new shop in Diagon Alley has anything to send them away"

"Mmm, maybe. And the girls, how are they?"

"Oh, they're just great, the Nargles have really taken a shine to them. Jay's been looking after them while I've been writing. He's been such an angel, the Flitterdabs have given him such patience"

"Luna?"

"Mmm?"

"Don't ever change." The barmaid came along at that point and set a mug of coffee in front of C.C., which she immediately wrapped her hands tightly around, absorbing the warmth of the coffee within. "Ahh. That's better. I've lived here for nearly two decades, and i still can't get used to the cold."

"Maybe you have a bad case of the Nigglepods. They sit on your skin and surround themselves with cold air."

"Like little tiny ghosts? Maybe. So, how's the book going?"

"Just finished it this morning"

"Really? That's fantastic! So, you know how all those years ago, I decided not to be written into your books? Well, I was talking to Scout and Becca this morning, and we agreed that maybe, it's time."

"Really?"

"Yep. So, I'll come round later and tell you, yeah?" Draining the last of her drink, C.C. stood up and started pulling her coat on. "Tomorrow work for you?"

"That would be lovely"

"See you later then, Luna

* * *

><p>Luna sat down at her desk, the sheaf of notes written by her DictaQuill and the vials of memories C.C had given her close to hand. Pulling up a new blank document on her screen, she ordered her thoughts, and began to type.<p>

**AN: The magic pixie fairies have told me that they'll think about making me the owner of the wonderful world of Harry Potter, but only if I get ten reviews before I post the next chapter (which I have already written btw). So review (and be nice, please?).**


	2. Chapter 1 - in which we are introduced

**AN: Now we move into the story proper. Anything you don't understand, just tell me in a review. I'll try to explain in later chapters. Constructive criticism is much appreciated. **Thank you to Cassandra30, who reviewed, however, the magic pixie fairies have refused to make me the owner of Harry Potter and co, so I'm gonna go ask the Heffalump community living near the 100 Acre Wood, but currently I own nothing except my OC's. Onto the story.****

* * *

><p>Chapter 1 - in which we are introduced<p>

C.C. gazed out the window, watching as the Australian landscape disappeared as the plane ascended into the clouds. The twinkling lights that indicated the city of Sydney, surrounded by the dark emptiness of water, and the smattering of lights that was the southern and western suburbs, and the Northern Beaches, which had been her home for the past 7 years, all vanishing away beneath her. A few lines from a Paul Kelly song her foster mother enjoyed singing floated into her head;

_"Have you ever seen Sydney from a 747 at night?_

_Sydney shines such a beautiful light_

_And I can see Bondi through my window way off to the right_

_And the curling waves on a distant break_

_And the sleeping city just about to wake_

_Have you ever seen Sydney from a 747 at night?"_

She sighed, mentally farewelling the country which would always hold a special place in her heart, and turned her attention to the book which she was holding: The Two Towers, by Tolkien. A brilliant writer, but right now she wasn't in the mood for reading. She, and her foster parents were returning to the UK after her foster father, Uncle John, had been transferred to the London branch of his company, and her mother's work had requested she return to work in their main office in England. Tante Marie, as if sensing her thoughts, reached over the back of the seat and rested a comforting hand on C.C's shoulder.

Later, after the flight attendants had brought round a meal that vaguely resembled dinner, C.C. drifted off into a fitful sleep. She dreamt of a dark, cramped space, with spiders on the ceiling and what appeared to be someone's belongings tucked away in the corners. She was seated on a thin, lumpy mattress, and as she gazed around, she saw that there were very few personal items, just ragged clothes which looked as if they once belonged to a young boy, and a few slim volumes which looked as if they had been read to tatters. She hear a rap on the door, and a sharp voice called him out of the space and into the kitchen, where, for some mysterious reason, she began to cook breakfast for what looked to be about ten people. She caught sight of the reflection of small, overly thin boy with messy black hair, glasses and piercing green eyes. He looked familiar, as though she had known him once in a past life. With this strange thought, she jerked awake. The rumbling of the plane and the voice over the intercom told her that the plane was coming in to land at the airport. With a juddering thump and a bump, the wheels of the plane hit the tarmac, and C.C. stood up, grabbing her carry-on bag, ready to begin a new life on English soil.

However, the second she stepped off the plane, she almost turned right back around to go straight back home. London was so grey, not to mention it was absolutely freezing. The sky was cloudy, and all she could see were buildings. Admittedly, this was still the airport, but she didn't have high hopes for the rest of her time here. Travelling through the streets against a backdrop of houses imprisioned by snow, she felt trapped, closed in. The lack of trees and quiet streets constantly reminded her that she wasn't home anymore.

When they arrived at their new home for the foreseeable future, in the middle of a residential area of London, C.C. felt exhausted and home-sick. She had left Sydney on the middle of what had been an excellent summer, for this cold and dreary place, where she felt she didn't belong, forced to attend a new school, when she had already finished the year, and to top it all off, there was no place to swim, or surf, the way she longed to. Even though she had been born here, C.C. felt that that connection had been broken long ago.

* * *

><p><strong>Coming up next: Chapter 2 - in which letters are <strong>**received. Review for me, so I can impress the Heffalumps. ****B00W0RM101 out (to go find some Heffalumps)******


	3. Chapter 2-in which letters are received

**AN: Welcome to Chapter 2! I have managed to locate the Heffalumps, but I haven't spoken to them Yet, so there is still hope. Enjoy :)**

Chapter 2 - in which letters are received

6 months later, C.C. was gazing out the window of her year 6 classroom on her last day of school as the teacher droned on about long division, something she'd covered ages ago back home. Last days of school in her experience were meant to be days of fun and frivolity, not more lessons. Over the past six months, while the rest of her class was covering material which was old news to her, she'd managed to systematically work her way through all of year 7 with the homeschooling course her foster parents had given to her after she'd been at school for a week and had become so bored that she had managed somehow to turn her teacher's hair green and almost set the school on fire.

Sitting at the table next to her was the closest friend she'd made in her time here. A small, intelligent girl with bushy brown hair, who, like C.C., had skipped a year. As the two smartest children in the class, they had formed a tentative friendship, with C.C. working on getting her to relax and to tone down her bossy attitude a little. She wasn't having much success, but she was hopeful that when they hit high school, she could help her make some close friends.

Cycling home from school that day, she turned her thoughts towards the impending holidays. Tomorrow they were leaving for the south of France for six weeks to visit Tante Marie's parents 'now that they were close enough'. C.C. was looking forward to the sun, the sea and, most of all, the surf.

Swinging into the driveway of their new home, she aimed her bike at the space between the house and the

fence, where she parked it, hopped off, locked it up, and trotted over to the front door, fishing her keys out of her bright blue backpack. She was greeted by a skittering, followed the barking of their fluffy white collie, Milou, and fended of his exuberant attacks in order to manoeuvre herself into the house.

She bounded down the hallway, dumping her bag in her room as she raced Milou to the kitchen, swiping an apple from the bowl on the table and looping round into the living room to where Tante Marie and Uncle John were quietly watching the news on TV.

_"Salut Tante Marie._ Hi Uncle John," she greeted them with a grin. "How was your day? Mine was ok. Ms Williams was still teaching, right up until the bell, which I still think is stupid. But I'm gonna try and meet up with 'Mione after we get back."

"_Ma chére,_ our day was lovely, thank you. I spoke to my sister today, and she is looking forward to seeing us tomorrow. _Aussi_, you got a letter today. It's sitting in your room."

"Really? Cool"

C.C. entered her room, munching on the apple she'd grabbed earlier, and picked up the square envelope sitting on her desk, with the elegant green script on the front, and grinned at the latest letter from her cousin Scout. She leapt onto her bed and wriggled a little to get comfortable, before ripping open the letter and unfolding it.

_Dearest Celandria, _(Scout was the only person who had ever gotten away with calling her by her full name more than once)

_How are you? Are you well? How's school going? Excited for the holidays? I can't wait! Thanks for the (really) early birthday present (you do know we'll be in France over my birthday, you could have given it to me then), it was just what I wanted! Speaking of birthdays, looking forward to yours? 11 is a big number! I'm really looking forward to seeing you in a few days, it'll be absolutely fantastic!_

_I got some really awesome news on the day before my birthday, and its sooo exciting! But they told me I can't tell anyone, not even you. So now I have a really awesome secret that's all mine! Just thought you'd like to know._

_Love from your absolute favourite cousin in the entire Universe,_

_Scout_

C.C. sat back and blinked. That was weird, even for her. She resolved to question Scout while they were both in France.

"C.C.! Come and help with dinner please!"

C.C. sighed and pushed it out of her mind. "Coming!"

* * *

><p>It was early in the morning, not long past dawn, and not many people were out and about, except for a young girl running along the footpath, her black braids bouncing as she loped along. C.C. slowed to a jog as she neared her house, coming to a stop outside the front door, which she unlocked and slipped inside, slipping into the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day.<p>

It was ten minutes later when she emerged, clean and slightly damp, and entered her bedroom to get dressed and wrestle her mass of unruly hair into two braids, and then to spend the next few hours until it was time to wake her foster parents getting ahead on schoolwork.

C.C. reemerged around three hours later,first rousing her foster parents before moving to the kitchen and starting breakfast, slotting bread into the toaster, boiling water and making a pot tea and coffee for Uncle John, and pulling out the cereal and spreads. By the time Aunt Marie entered the kitchen yawning and blinking the sleep from her eyes, C.C. had made tea and coffee, toast, and had set the table for three. Exiting the kitchen, she passed through the living room and into the hall, where she stooped down and picked up the small pile of mail at the door, and wandered back to the kitchen, flicking through the pile of bills, letters, a postcard for Uncle John, and right at the very bottom, was a letter for her. Noticing the green ink of the address, she grinned at the prospect of another letter from Scout.

Reentering the kitchen, where Uncle John was downing what looked to be his second cup of coffee, and Aunt Marie was drooping sleepily over a cup of tea and some toast. Dumping the wad of letters in front of Uncle John, she plonked herself down at the table and poured herself a bowl of cereal and a cup of tea, before turning to Scout's letter.

Upon closer inspection, she realised that this wasn't a letter from Scout. The envelope was made of a funny paper, and the handwriting of the address was wrong, not to mention the lack of a stamp. The looping script on the front read;

_Miss C. Evans_

_Second Bedroom on the Right_

_10 Crossley St_

_Islington_

_London_

Flipping it over, she found the other side was sealed with old-fashioned sealing wax with a funny looking crest stamped on it. Slitting it open, she pulled out the letter inside, which was written on the same thick paper as the envelope, and scanned the contents.

_"Tante Marie? Regardez cette lettre. Est-ce que tu pense?"_ Tante Marie was not a morning person, and struggled to understand anything except French and Italian, her mother tongues.

"_Hmm…"_

_"C'est bizzare, non? Une farce, peut-être?_

_"Peut-être tu pourrais répondre à cette lettre"_

_"Bien sûr! Je vais maintenant répondre"_

C.C. hopped up, dumped her bowl in the sink and drained the last of her tea, before dashing off to her room to write a reply.

Pulling out a sheet of lined paper, she grabbed her fountain pen, a gift from Scout on her last birthday, and began to write.

_Ms McGonagall,_

_This morning I received a letter inviting me to attend your school, however, I am doubtful of its legitimacy. If you could prove it, I would be most grateful. My address, in case you are unaware, is 10 Crossley St, Islington, London._

_My thanks_

_C.C. Evans_

Folding up the letter, C.C. sealed it in an envelope, addressed it to _Ms Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, _stuck a stamp on the front, and wandered out into the hall to see if Aunt Marie needed her to get anything from the shops while she was out posting her letter.

Twenty minutes later, C.C. was cycling towards the nearest set of shops that had a post box, with a shopping list for milk, butter, sugar, bread, apples and lemons (Aunt Marie wanted to make her birthday cake this afternoon), and the letter tucked securely in her bike basket.

**AN: I love you guys, really I do. But please, could you please, post a review. Also, I'm going to be sans internet for the next week and a half, so it'll be a while before the next instalment. Wishing you all a Very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year**


	4. Chapter 3 - in which there is a birthday

**A.N Another chapter for your enjoyment posted. Sorry for being away for so long, but I was sans internet over Christmas, and then again for the past week. I hope you had a great Christmas and New Year, and welcome to ****2014**** 2015. Remember, reviews are much appreciated.**

Chapter 3 - in which there is a birthday

Minerva McGonagall glanced at the well-kept house with its brick facade and blooming garden, then back at the letter in her hand. Striding up to the front door, she knocked and waited

"_J'arrive, j'arrive!_" A clatter of footsteps approached the door before they stopped with a thump* and the door swung open to reveal a tall, black-haired girl with an oddly familiar lopsided grin. "_Bonj_…sorry, hi"

"Good morning, my name is Professor McGonagall, Dep…"

"From the school? Hogwarts? It exists? Really?"

"Yes, Hogwarts is a real pl…"

"So I'm a wizard?" Cool!"

"Actually you are a witch but…"

"C.C, who's that at the door? If it's that professor lady, invite her in, and stop badgering her"

The girl…C.C… produced that strikingly familiar grin again , "Oops, sorry, do come in."

As she was ushered down the hallway, Minerva passed by a gallery of portraits. Some of the earlier ones, depicting a small, black-haired toddler, sparked something in her memory, but C.C. led her on, not allowing her to linger. The narrow hallway opened out into a small, yet somehow open space, where a couple were waiting.

"Professor McGonagall, these are my foster parents, Marie and John, Tante Marie, Uncle John, this is Professor McGonagall"

Professor McGonagall stepped forward to shake their hands, "Please, call me Minerva", she said, as she caught a glimpse of the end of C.C.'s plaits disappearing through a doorway.

"Very well then Minerva, you must call us Marie and John. Please, come and sit down" Professor McGonagall found herself following the pair through the door which C.C. had disappeared minutes earlier. She passed through a well kept dining room and into a welcoming living room filled with. "Please, have a seat. I suspect C.C. will be along in a minute with some tea, so make yourself comfortable"

McGonagall looked around the room, absorbing the clutter over the fireplace, the shelves overflowing with books, and relaxed slightly. She was always on edge when she first met the parents of a child, not knowing what they were like or how they treated their child. A hesitant voice broke gently through her reverie,"How do you take your tea?"

"Hmm? Oh milk, no sugar, thank you"

"Gotcha. Here you go," C.C. passed her a cup filled with hot tea, before settling back on the other couch. McGonagall noticed that all three were waiting expectantly, and took a deep breath.

"Despite what you may believe, the wizarding world is real." To prove it, McGonagall pulled out her wand and transfigured the sugar bowl into a turtle and back again to gasps of astonishment. "We live apart from the Muggle, or nonmagical, world. Magical children begin their education at Hogwarts when they turn eleven. Hogwarts is the preeminent school for young Wizards and Witches in the world. It's a boarding school which cannot be found by Muggles, so I can help you to find your way in the beginning. Any questions?"

She watched as C.C. blinked three times, before recovering herself and reaching into the pocket of her jeans and pulling out a piece of parchment. "Umm…yeah, I have one. How the hell—um, sorry, heck, do I get all this stuff"

"There are magical areas all over the world, hidden from Muggles. There is one here in London where you can buy all you need. I can return in a few days and take you there?"

"Perhaps on Wednesday, as all of us are at home then," ventured Marie.

"Yes, I believe that would be acceptable. I must go now, thank you for the tea."

"See ya!" called C.C.

"Goodbye Miss Evans, Marie, John," Professor McGonagall pulled on her cloak and began to walk down the path to the gate

A young voice yelled after her, "Its C.C!" Professor McGonagall chuckled. She hoped that that girl ended up in her house, she reminded her of herself a little.

* * *

><p>Wednesday came, and Professor McGonagall once more walked up the path to the door of the brick building. She rapped smartly on the door, and heard C.C's clattering footsteps approach towards the door stopping with a thump, before the door was swung open and she was greeted by C.C's beaming face. "Hello Professor McGonagall, how are you," was the exuberant greeting from the seemingly irrepressible child. "Come in, come in, hurry up," she continued impatiently, hopping from foot to foot in barely contained excitement, before losing the battle and grabbing her arm. "Come on, we're just about to have cake and open presents." Professor McGonagall chucked at her antics and allowed herself to be dragged down the hallway into the living room, where Marie and John were waiting with a cake and a few brightly wrapped presents lay on the small coffee table in front of them.<p>

Marie stood up and greeted her warmly,"Ahh, Minerva, perfect timing. We were just about to have cake."

"It's my birthday today," chirped C.C. from the couch, where she was bouncing up and down.

"C.C, stop that."

"I can't. There's too much happy inside of me, and it wants to get out," C.C. choked out between bounces

"Okay then, open your presents." The sound of tearing paper was heard as Marie turned back to face Minerva. "I was wondering, would you be able to manage C.C. on your own, something's come up at work for me, and John had to fly out unexpectedly yesterday, so…" Marie paused hesitantly.

"No problem, that's fine."

"Really. Thank you so much. C.C, Professor McGonagall will be taking you by herself today". Behave, OK."

"Ok. Can we have cake now?"

"Of course." With that, Minerva found herself listening to a chorus of 'Happy Birthday', before the cake was carved up and she found herself sitting next to C.C. with a slice of cake in her hand.

After they had all finished, C.C. was sent to put her presents away and to go put shoes and a coat on, while the three adults chatted. "So, you are C.C's aunt and uncle?"

"Not really. C.C's parents are dead, and she was left at an orphanage in Surrey when she was about eighteen months old. We don't know her parent's names, and we haven't been able to trace them. Although, now I think about it, they were probably wizards, so the …Muddles?"

"Mu_gg_les."

"That's it. The Muggles mustn't know anything about it. Would you be able to find out anything."

"I'm ready to go now, Professor McGonagall"

"Ok then, hold my arm." As C.C. clutched her arm, Professor McGonagall closed her eyes, concentrated, and apparated to the small courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron. C.C. stumbled away, looking slightly green, before she recovered.

"Whoa. That takes some getting used to." C.C. looked around and realised where she was. "Wizards can teleport? Cool!"

"It is called apparition. You can learn how when you are sixteen"

"Cool. So, where are we?"

"We are behind the Leaky Cauldron, on Charing Cross Road, at the entrance to Diagon Alley." With that, McGonagall stepped forward and used her wand to tap the brick which opened the entrance to Diagon Alley.

* * *

><p>*In case you were wondering, C.C. runs towards the door, and then stops herself by running into it.<p>

**A.N. The Heffalumps have been contacted, and I am waiting to hear back from them. Reviews will keep me entertained me while I wait. **


	5. Chapter 4 - in which much is revealed

**A.N. Hello lovely readers, it's my birthday today, so what better way to celebrate than with a new chapter of The Hidden Ones. Enjoy :)**

Chapter 4 - in which much is revealed

As the bricks peeled back to form an archway, the bustling street of Diagon Alley was revealed. C.C. stared around her in awe, not knowing where to look first, her head swivelling as she tried to look everywhere at once, before getting dizzy and stumbling. She was caught by Professor McGonagall, who steadied her, before moving forwards into the Alley. C.C, not wanting to lose her in the crowd, hurried after her. "Where are we going first Professor?"

"To Gringotts, the wizarding bank"

"Okay." C.C. managed to keep up with the tall woman until they passed what looked to be a bookshop. Before she realised, her feet had turned and were leading her towards the treasure trove of the shop, until she felt a firm hand grasp her shoulder and steer her back on track. She looked pleadingly up at the stern face of Professor McGonagall.

"We need money first, then we can go to the bookstore, okay?"

"Okay." C.C. grinned, trotting eagerly in the direction the pair had been heading before she had gotten sidetracked by the bookshop, before turning around and beckoning impatiently. "Come on then. The sooner we get to the bank, the sooner we get to come back here."

Professor McGonagall allowed a sad smile to cross her face at this girl, who reminded her of another, many years ago, before marshalling her features back into their normal stern expression and pulled her mind away from the memories which had brought her so much joy but were now only painful, to focus on the child dancing with impatience in front of her.

The white building at the end of the street loomed into view, and C.C. stopped in awe, almost causing Professor McGonagall to run into her. She managed to catch herself in time though, before rousing the unresponsive C.C. from her awestruck daze and leading her into the majestic interior, stopping only to point out the warning engraved on the doors of the entrance hall

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

"Gringotts is one of the most secure places in the wizarding world, along with Hogwarts, and you would have to be insane to try to rob it, with all the protections and defences they have," she explained to C.C, who nodded seriously to indicate her understanding. As the passed through these doors and crossed the expanse of the entrance hall she wondered vaguely how Hagrid was managing with the Potter twins. Apparently Harry had not got his letter, so they had had to send him in, but his sister must have at the very least opened hers, as there had been no need to send her a second letter. Maybe she would be able to run into them today, see her god-daughter and her twin for the first time since that awful Halloween, when Albus had locked away her memory of that night so people couldn't use her to get to Harry or Celandria, not that many knew about her, only those who had been close to Lily and James.

Once more Professor McGonagall roused herself from her musings, this time to find C.C. having a spirited conversation with one of the goblin tellers. She blinked, then rubbed her eyes and polished her glasses to make sure that she wasn't dreaming. She wasn't, C.C. really was chattering away with a goblin. As she got closer, she began to hear some of their conversation. "So you see, I don't really know all that much about the magical world, but it'd be really interesting to find out more, especially about the different cultures and their relation to their muggle counterparts." The goblin made an interested noise, before noticing Professor McGonagall, his face adopting the professional look usually worn by the goblins while they dealt with the wizarding community. She cleared her throat, and C.C. turned to face her. "With that attitude, Miss Evans, you could be a Ravenclaw"

"Raven_what_now?"

"Ravenclaw, one of the four Hogwarts Houses. They are well known for their intelligence and love of learning."

"What are the other three?" C.C. inquired curiously.

"I'll tell you later. Right now, we are keeping your goblin friend waiting," Professor McGonagall turned to the goblin at the counter. "My apologies for our rudeness. No offence was intended."

"None taken," growled the goblin.

"Miss Evans, would you introduce us?"

"Oh sorry. Professor McGonagall, this is Junior Goblin Teller Mingoo. Mingoo, this is Professor Minerva McGonagall," C.C. introduced them formally.

"Pleased to meet you Mingoo. I'm sorry we can't speak for longer, but we've got a lot to get through today."

"Of course. Perhaps some other time, when none of us are busy."

"That sounds agreeable. So, how can I help you today?"

Professor McGonagall reflected on the sheer absurdity of the fact that she was having a civil conversation with a goblin that had nothing to do with gold, before replying. "First, I wish to have an inheritance test done for C.C. here, and then to draw some money from my vault and whichever vault C.C. will use to fund her school supplies."

"I believe that can be arranged." Mingoo turned and called out, "Rustblade!"

A stubby goblin appeared and Mingoo barked out something in Gobbledygook. The goblin turned and beckoned, "Follow me please."

Rustblade led them out of the entrance hall into the side rooms used for things such as this. C.C watched, fascinated, as the goblin brought to the table a wide, shallow bowl, a feather, a glass bottle, what looked to be a ceremonial dagger of some kind, and a sheet of that strange thick paper the wizarding world seemed to like so much. He then took the top off the bottle and poured the liquid inside into the bowl, before laying the feather in the liquid and picking up the knife and handing it to her. "What do I do with this?" she asked, confused.

"The inheritance test needs blood to make it work," Rustblade explained. "A few drops into this bowl, if you please"

C.C. steeled herself, before pricking her finger and watching her blood drop into the bowl. There was a flash, and when she regained her vision, all that was left was the feather, only it had gone from being black, to purest white. Rustblade picked up the feather and placed it perpendicular to the sheet of paper, then let go. To her astonishment, the feather remained upright, still for a moment, before dashing across the page, leaving a trail of ink behind it. When it reached the end, it stopped, quivered, then disintegrated into dust. Rustblade swept the dust onto the floor, before handing C.C. the sheet.

_Inheritance Test Number 160089_

_Celandria Lily Evans_

_31 July 1980 - Present_

_Vaults_

_687_

_ Trust Vault - Accessible as of 31 July, 1991_

_704_

_Potter Family Vault_

_115_

_Vault belonging to Lily Evans - Currently empty_

_Relatives_

_Siblings_

_Harrison James Potter_

_31 July 1980 - Present_

_Jasmine Abigail Evans_

_4 March 1982 - Present_

_William Alexander Evans_

_18 August 1983 - Present_

_Violet Anne Evans_

_1 October 1987 - Present_

_Marguerite_ _Nicole Evans_

_13 February 1989 - Present_

_Parents:_

_Lily Katherine (Neé Evans) Potter_

_30 January 1960 - Present_

_James Daniel Potter_

_27 March 1960 - Present_

The list of relatives went on, but C.C. was too shocked to keep reading. Then she looked up and a wide grin to stretch across her face. "My parents aren't dead," she joyously proclaimed to the expectant Professor McGonagall. "See?" She passed the sheet over to the waiting woman, who scanned the paper, growing whiter and whiter, before suddenly collapsing weakly onto a chair. "Professor? What's wrong?"

"This can't be right" she muttered, seemingly to herself.

"The goblins don't make mistakes" broke in Rustblade sharply.

"Professor? Are you OK? Do you need to stop here fore a little while?" queried C.C.

Professor McGonagall jerked her head up at the sound of C.C's voice, with an expression of realisation on her face. "Celandria?" she asked hopefully. C.C. grimaced at the use of her name, before nodding in confirmation. She was tempted to make a joke, but realised that now probably wasn't the best time. "Come here. There is a story I need to tell." C.C. settled cross-legged opposite the professor, who nodded at Rustblade, waiting until the goblin had left. "Twenty years ago, I met your parents - they were in their first year. Your father was a confident, leader, who had three close friends and was an irrepressible prankster. Your mother was one of the kindest, most compassionate people I have ever met, with the temper of a dragon and the intelligence of a Ravenclaw. They were both Gryffindors and Head Boy and Girl in their final year. I became very close to them in their later years and after they finished. They got married and when they found out about you and your brother, they were so excited. Your mother asked me to be your godmother, and I accepted willingly. But we were fighting a war at the time, and your family had to go into hiding not long after you were born when their lives were threatened. Unfortunately they were betrayed, and they were murdered. But, when an evil wizard tried to kill your brother, he died instead. You both were taken to live with your aunt, although I have no idea how you ended up where you are now. I agreed, as Professor Dumbledore told me it was the only way to protect you both from the followers of your parents murderer."

"But they're not dead" C.C. exclaimed. "How come they didn't try to find me and…my brother"

"The most likely explanation is that they lost their memories," Professor McGonagall offered. "No-one has heard anything from them in ten years. All we need to do is find them. The only question is how?"

C.C. thought for a moment, then leant forward and tapped a name on the page between them. "This girl…my sister…is going to be at Hogwarts in a few years. All we have to do is wait until her letter goes out, and voila, one set of parents found" She grinned at Professor McGonagall, before a thought crossed her mind. "Professor, in that story, didn't you say that you were my godmother?"

"Yes…"

"Then can I call you something other than Professor McGonagall? It's, well, it's too formal" C.C. turned pleading eyes on the old woman

"When you were small, you would always call me Aunt Min. How does that sound?"

""It sounds wonderful…Aunt Min." C.C. grinned crookedly, before pulling the older woman into a hug. Professor McGonagall stiffened slightly, before relaxing and hugging back a little. "Now, how about we go shopping."

At that moment there was a knock on the door. C.C. bounded over to it and exuberantly swung it open, to reveal Mingoo, holding a sack of some kind. "Mingoo!"

"Rustblade told me that you would likely be here for a while, so I went and retrieved some money from the vault he told me you would be using." She passed the bag to Professor McGonagall, before reaching into the pocket of her Gringotts uniform and produced a small key dangling on a chain. "I also made you a copy of the key to the vault for future use." This, she passed to C.C, who looped the chain over her head and allowed the key to fall beneath her shirt.

"Thanks Mingoo," C.C. said, before another thought occurred to her. "Prof…sorry, Aunt Min, can we go back to the bookstore now? You did say that when we had the money…" She trailed off hopefully, focussing pleading eyes on Professor McGonagall, who chuckled, before giving in.

"Yes, let's go." The rest of what she was going to say was drowned out by C.C's joyous whoop, and then rendered redundant by her swift exit from the room. McGonagall smiled apologetically at Mingoo. "Thank you Mingoo. I'd better go after her before she gets too far ahead." She stayed long enough to catch Mingoo's understanding expression, before hurrying after the whirlwind that was C.C.

She managed to catch up with C.C. at Flourish and Blotts, purely because she had reached her goal and had sunk to the floor of the shp, a large book open in her lap, oblivious to her surroundings. McGonagall cleared her throat, first quietly, and when that failed to elicit a response, louder, until C.C. jerked in surprise. "You remind me a lot of your mother, C.C. She loved reading too. But perhaps we should finish all the shopping we need to do, then come back here?" C.C. sighed and reluctantly closed the book she had been reading, which McGonagall saw was a book on the legends of the wizarding world. Placing it reverently back on the shelf, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded square of parchment, which turned out to be the first year equipment list when unfolded.

"Let's see now," murmured C.C. "I need to find A_ Beginners Guide_…" Her mutterings faded behind McGonagall as she wandered off amongst the shelves, while McGonagall went looking to see if there were any new transfiguration books on the shelves. Twenty minutes later, she was firmly engrossed in the latest copy of _Transfiguration Today_ when C.C. came bouncing up to her, arms nearly overflowing with piles of books. McGonagall sighed, before reaching out and taking half of the stack and leading C.C. to the counter to pay for them. C.C. stared at thew coins, before shrugging and accepting a bag of books, which, oddly enough, weighed next to nothing.

Their next stop was at the robe shop across the street, which passed without incident, and then the Apothecary, which was filled with fascinating sights, but, in C.C's opinion, smelt like the inside of a dumpster. More specifically, it smelt like the inside of the dumpster she had hidden in that one time when she was seven, trying to avoid the neighbourhood bullies. She reminisced for a moment on the pranks she had pulled on those bullies in retaliation, before she found herself breathing the clear air, and being led around the twisting turns of Diagon Alley to arrive outside the cauldron shop, which she found extremely amusing, much to Professor McGonagall's consternation, and had to be left outside, attracting some odd looks from passers-by. By the time she had calmed down, McGonagall had finished in the shops, and was waiting patiently for her to finish laughing.

Hiccupping slightly, she trailed after the professor, who hurried her past a brightly decorated shop, which looked rather interesting, but was lost to view as she was hurried round a corner and into a shop which held an array of uniforms and what looked to be trunks emblazoned with the Hogwarts crest. McGonagall spent a few minutes chatting to the elderly lady at the counter, before calling to C.C. and handing her over to the other lady, who promptly handed over some uniforms and pushed her into a changing room, where she changed into the clothes she was given. Ten minutes later that chore was done and McGonagall walked over to the trunks. C.C. trailed nervously after her, fervently hoping that they wouldn't ask her to get inside one, which was stupid, but who knew with wizards?

"So, what do you think of this one. Inbuilt shrinking and locking chams, permanent feather-light, low level undetectable extension charm," the sales-lady extolled the virtues of the trunk she was showing them. C.C. anxiously moved closer to the trunk before peering hesitantly in. Her face broke into a wide grin, exclaiming, "Aunt Min, it's bigger on the inside," before collapsing in laughter.

McGonagall looked confused, before indicating to the curious shopkeeper that they would take that trunk. She unloaded all of C.C's purchases into the trunk, and waited for the lady to finish the sale. By that point C.C. had calmed down enough to allow the trunk to be keyed to her magical signature, and to understand the trunk's magic.

Finally everything was packed into the trunk and McGonagall had gotten C.C. to shrink it. She led the still giggling girl out of the shop and off to their final stop for the day. The shop was dark and dusty with a broken stool in the corner. The faded sign above the door proclaimed that _Ollivanders_ had been 'makers of fine wands since 382 B.C.' C.C. gazed round at the shop, wondering if anyone was actually running it, when a soft voice emanated from the shelves. "Miss Potter, I wondered when you would be coming into my shop. I remember your parents coming in here for their first wands, like it was yesterday, and your brother was in here only this morning. Fine wands for fine wizards, all three of them…" The elderly man trailed off, his grey eyes drilling into C.C, who shied away from his gaze. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, breaking the silence.

"Miss _Evans _is in need of a wand, Mr Ollivander, and we are on a rather tight schedule so if you would be so kind." McGonagall interrupted, causing Ollivander to snap to attention, pulling out a tape measure.

"Your wand arm, Miss, _ahem_, Evans." C.C. stuck out her right hand in front of her, watching as Ollivander began to measure from her shoulder to her fingers, her elbow to wrist, the breadth of her collar-bone, knee to ankle, round her head. As he measured, C.C. stared round the room at the boxes of shelves, before realising that the tape measure, which was currently measuring the distance between her eye and her ear, was doing so all by itself. Before she could wonder at this further Ollivander appeared from behind a shelf with a stack of long, thin boxes clutched in his arms. From the first box he produced a long slim stick, about 25 centimetres long, made of a dark wood. "Try this one, ebony and unicorn feather, 9 inches, bendy. Go on, give it a wave." C.C. complied, brandishing the wand enthusiastically, before it was snatched out of her hands by the wand maker, and replaced by a slightly shorter, thicker wand, "Hazel and dragon heartstring," then followed by a succession of wands which barely registered with C.C. Holly, pine, cedar, vine, willow wands with a variety of cores were all presented to her, and then whipped away by Ollivander. C.C. began to get a little frustrated, but the elderly wizard seemed to become more and more excited with each rejected wand joining the pile on the counter, "Another tricky customer, just like your brother. Perhaps…" and he darted off into the shelves, returning with a very old box that had at least a centimetre of dust on the top. "One of the last wands my father ever made, and in my opinion one of the finest. Oak and phoenix feather, 12 inches, swishy," Olivander stated proudly. C.C. grasped the handle of the wand and felt a warmth spread through her fingers and the wand let off a bunch of red and gold sparks. Ollivander clapped his hands in delight. "The wand chooses the wizard, Miss Evans. This wand is the only one made from the wood taken from the oldest oak tree in the Hogwarts forest. I look forward to great things from you." C.C. blinked as the wand, _her_ wand, was wrapped in a box and paid for by McGonagall.

The pair stepped out of the cramped shop into the brightness of the alley, and C.C. visibly cheered. McGonagall realised at that moment that she had, in all the excitement, forgotten that it was C.C's birthday. "C.C?"

"Yes?"

"I have some business I need to attend to. Would you like to go get an ice cream?" At C.C's enthusiastic nodding, she handed her the moneybag, pointing her in the right direction. "Don't go overboard, OK?" At C.C's roll of her eyes, she chuckled, before turning away.

C.C. eagerly made her way over to the shop, which boasted a fascinating and decidedly creative array of ice-cream flavours, far more than she'd ever seen before (which was saying something). She settled for the rather exotic sounding raspberry and pineapple, with chopped nuts on top. She was rather disappointed with the lack of sprinkles, but found it delicious nonetheless, the ice-cream proving to be smooth and creamy, well flavoured and balanced. While she was sitting outside in the sunshine, enjoying the last of her ice-cream, she noticed a large mob of red-heads coming up the alleyway. Intrigued, she noticed that two of them had broken away and were coming towards her.

The one on the left poked the one on the right and pointed at her. The pair of identical twins grinned wickedly, before marching right up to her. "Hello," the one on the right said.

"Hi," returned C.C, eyeing the duo warily, having recognised the look in their eyes as the same one she had whenever she was looking to cause mischief. She slipped her hand into her pocket, making sure that she still had the squirting flower her mate Jenna had sent her the other week. Swiftly she pointed behind the two, exclaiming, "Hey, look over there!" While their backs were turned, she slipped the flower neatly behind her ear and waited for them to turn back around.

"There's-," began one.

"Nothing there," finished the other.

"Oh, my bad, sorry."

"No-"

"-Problem. Say, where-"

"-are your parents?"

"Umm… well, I dunno. I'm here with my Aunt Min, cos they can't make it. I'm C.C Evans, by the way."

"Gred-," supplied the one on the right.

"-and Forge," added his twin.

"Weasley," they chorused, holding out their hands.

C.C. looked warily down at their hands, then back up at their faces, noting the mischievous look in their eyes. She leant in close, beckoning them to do the same. "One thing you should know about me boys, is that I don't get pranked easily." With that, she squeezed the trigger for the flower tucked into her hair, soaking the pair, leaving them flabbergasted and spluttering, as she sat back watching them smugly. Then the twins looked at each other, and started roaring with laughter. C.C. couldn't help but join in, their laughter was so infectious.

McGonagall returned from her expedition to find her god-daughter laughing her head off (again) with, to her horror, none other than the Weasley twins. She marched over to the trio to stand behind C.C. As they noticed her, the twins abruptly stopped laughing and stared at their professor. C.C, noticing their matching expressions, swivelled her head around nervously, before grinning happily and exclaiming innocently, "Look Aunt Min, I've made some friends. Do you know them?" Behind C.C, she saw the twin's jaws drop in astonishment.

"Mr Weasley and Mr Weasley, I believe your mother is looking for you." McGonagall said firmly. The gobsmacked duo quickly scurried away to find their family, and McGonagall turned back to C.C, a frown on her face, ready to tell her off, when C.C. burst into laughter.

"Did you see the looks on their faces," she cackled. McGonagall chuckled, leading the girl through the alley and back out to the Leaky Cauldron, where the Apparition point was located. Calming C.C. down took some time, and required a pot of tea and some biscuits, but she managed it eventually.

They apparated directly into C.C's home this time, McGonagall landing gracefully in the foyer, while C.C. tumbled to the floor beside her. After she had been helped up and dusted off, she dashed off in the direction of the living room, presumably to tell her foster-parents about her day. McGonagall took the opportunity to duck into the closest bedroom, obviously C.C's by the look of it, and place the package she had bought while C.C. was talking to the Weasley twins on the bed. It contained a set of quills, a variety of inks, and copious amounts of parchment.

Using the notepad resting on the desk in the corner of the room, she penned a short note, then headed down the hall to the living room to say her goodbyes. Twenty minutes later she arrived outside the Hogwarts gates, having had to promise to return soon in order for the small family to allow her to leave. As she entered the castle and turned towards her room, she wondered vaguely why the prospect of the last few weeks of the previously interminable summer holidays now seemed so much brighter than before.

**A.N. school has started back and I'm in Yr 12 now, so updates will probably slow down for the next year, just a heads up so you know. Also, a special prize to the first person who tells me how old I am. Email address is required :)**


End file.
